


until the wounds heal

by adotham (Bates)



Series: Tumblr prompts [13]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Again sort of, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blood, Cops AU, M/M, gun shot wounds, possible death, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bates/pseuds/adotham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton are partners in fighting crime. Now Alexander is out for commission however, John is out with Lafayette and Mulligan when things go south and he gets shot.</p><p>32. <i>"I think I'm in love with you and I'm petrified."</i> + Lams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	until the wounds heal

"I love all your broken pieces,

I hope you can love mine.

maybe the razor sharp edge of our jagged corners

can fit together like a puzzle,

and we can feel whole again.

maybe we can unlearn the taste of the blood,

the tender not-pain of bruises,

the way bone splinters,

knees hit cement.

maybe we can love each other,

love ourselves,

until the wounds heal.

until the day breaks.

until we are unbroken."

[\- MOSAIC LOVE // F.S.](http://lostcap.tumblr.com/post/143289337378/i-love-all-your-broken-pieces-i-hope-you-can)

 

All in all, the chairs weren’t the most uncomfortable. It was all Alexander could focus on. Ridiculous, but it was something. Something else than John in that operating room or Lafayette with his blood stained shirt. Mulligan had told him the suit jacket had been worse, that they’d already dropped that off. The blood that was John’s, clinging to his shirt like it was the murder scene.

John was his partner. He should have been there, not in bed with a broken leg because the office wouldn’t allow him to stay there to wait for the return of the rest of their team. He’d hated himself for breaking that leg on such a random little thing – he’d missed a stair and tumbled down a flight before he could stop himself in an attempt to be quicker at work, _oh the irony_ – put him out of commission for field work. Alexander knew he could trust Lafayette and Mulligan with John, they’d keep him safe. They had done their best.

Still, here he was, at the hospital at five am wearing nothing but a flimsy shirt and his pyjama pants. He didn’t care about the rest of their team eyeing him like a hawk, nor did he about the funny looks he got.

_“He’s off real bad. The situation went south unexpectedly. He was shot in the side, the bullet may have pierced further. The doctors still haven’t come back with news. Alex - he wasn’t breathing when he went in. This one’s on me.”_

The words kept running around in his head even with him trying to focus on the little things. _These chairs were actually relatively comfortable. The coffee wasn’t as bad as could be. He could actually imagine falling asleep here if the surgery took longer._ There was blood on Lafayette’s shirt and under his nails because of John. Laf had taken John’s limp body from that pavement and kept pressure on the wound until the ambulance arrived. He flat lined during the drive over, but they’d pulled him through.

 _John, dying. John in a hospital bed all colour drained from his face. John. His funeral, tears on people’s faces. Alexander could be asked to write a speech. They had done that before – he didn’t think he could do that this time._ ~~Stop it.~~

Alexander pressed his nails into the flesh at his palms. He had to stop thinking, stop thinking about his partner dying without backup.  His mind kept running him scenarios in which he’d have to find a replacement and looking for John in every inch of them.

He had started to fall in love with him, in a way. Possibly every way. In the way he smiled and his freckles that spanned his skin. How after rough cases, they’d get together and John would cook them dinner or breakfast, depending on how late it was. Alexander remembered the day he’d broken his leg a little fondly because it was one of the only times that John had scooped him up in his arms to bring him to the couch so he could see what the state of it was before driving him to the hospital himself.

He’d been the first to write his name on the cast. His name and the little turtle were his favourite things about the cast. Would they be nothing but a painful reminder after tonight? A way of telling him that no matter how long the day drew on, John was not coming back to them?

_He never even got to tell him._

His nails dug into his palms deeper. If he could only stop thinking, just five minutes would be great.

 

* * *

 

 

_John, in a hospital bed. All colour drained from his face but alive. Breathing._

Alexander had never been happier than when he felt that faint flutter under his fingertips. He’d barely recognized him with all the bandages, all the monitors. Sixty-seven to sixty-nine steady beats a minute, his oxygen dipping and dipping until it rose again, sending Alexander in a tiny panic every time. It climbed back and never right healthy territory – at least so Lafayette kept reassuring him – but each time he freaked out ~~just a tiny bit~~.

John had not yet regained consciousness, but he would. The anaesthesia was starting to wear off now. His colleagues had all sat with him for a while and there were agents posted at the door, but they were as alone as they could be.

“You freaked me out,” he mumbled accusingly. “I thought I’d lose you. You’re my partner. Do you know how much I cannot lose you. Who else would come bring me salvation from the crappy coffee and arrive, literally fifteen minutes late with Starbucks?” _John would laugh and then cringe but with pain. Alex would get his hair out of his face._ “There’s no one out there as good as your freckly ass.”

Alexander ignored the shifting at the door. Personal conversations weren’t easy while the hospital room was still under cover and he knew for a fact they made the agents – which were friends of theirs – uncomfortable to hear them. They just had to suck it up. He was emotional. Just two hours ago, he’d arrived at the hospital only to think that John had already _died_. He deserved to work it out on the man himself.

“Seriously, Laurens, what the hell.” He tentatively reached out, took John’s hand in his. “I thought I’d lost you. Have you seen Laf’s shirt, there’s so much blood. They’re all so freaked out. Well, not freaked out enough not to eat, because they were going to the cafeteria –“ He himself laughed at that. They’d all decided to go downstairs to get a bite. He had refused to come along, said he needed some time. They’d just nodded. “Now we _both_ get desk work huh. Do you think they’ll have enough of it to keep us both entertained?”

A finger twitched and Alex looked up, but there was no sign of waking up in any of his features. _You’ll have to wait for it, Alexander._

“I don’t do talking about myself. Okay, you’ll roll your eyes I do. But. You scared the crap out of me.” He clenched his teeth as if it would prevent the tears that had started to build in his eyes now the shock was wearing off. “They said you weren’t breathing. You went into cardiac arrest on the way here. Christ Laurens. Is just getting in a fight not enough for you?”

_“He’s off real bad. The situation went south unexpectedly. He was shot in the side, the bullet may have pierced further. The doctors still haven’t come back with news. Alex - he wasn’t breathing when he went in. This one’s on me.”_

“Lafayette scared me so badly,” he admitted silently, “said you would die. Your heart could be pierced.” His fingers were absently turning circles above his knuckles. “And you know. Fuck it. I’m _still_ petrified. I am, because.” He took a deep breath, blew it out. _One. Two. Three. Four. Repeat._ “I think I’m in love with you and I’m petrified. I’m petrified because you might slip out of my hands before I’ve even gotten a chance to even say anything about it. Not-not get a chance to kiss those pretty lips of yours and now I can’t stop imagining them blue and without life and I _can’t_ John. I can’t deal with it.”

 _Breathe, Alexander_.

“So get yourself back to the life of the conscious beings and recover well. Please don’t get your wound infected, please don’t go and give up on me. I _need_ you. I. I need you okay. Not just your silly porcelain turtles on your desk or your hair ties getting everywhere in our office. I need you, your laugh, your smile, the way you look after me. I need it tall, the entirety of John Laurens.”

His finger twitched again, the tension changed. When John noticed that Alexander was holding his hand, his muscles went rigid. _This had been such a big mistake_.

“Hey.” His voice was dry. It almost sounded painful just to hear him attempt to talk. “You’re here. Why does it feel like my mouth is filled with cotton?”

“I couldn’t let my partner get shot and then not be here.” _He was okay_. “Let me get you some ice, it will help.” Alex let go of his hand and fetched him some of the ice they’d put there, in case he’d wake up. John sighed happily when he finally got it, went silent for just a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t-“

“I damned well hope you never meant to get shot,” he said, “because I get your ass with a psychologist sooner than you can say _turtle_.” John had seen the lows of life. Before he’d joined the force, there were days he’d rather have killed himself, he couldn’t get out of bed. He’d trusted him with that information and just knowing that had been a bit of a relieve to him. “Nothing you could do about it.”

“I’m sorry you had to see my blood on Laf’s shirt,” he spoke a little louder now, “and about…the rest.”

“You heard, didn’t you?” Alexander felt his heart rate quicken as John caught his eyes nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be.” John lifted his hand to him. “Please don’t get me wrong.” Just his words made him skip a beat. _Oh god._

“We’ll talk, later.” He stood up from his chair, took two unsteady steps before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m going to catch the rest, they’ll want to know you’re awake as well. Don’t you go anywhere while I’m gone. This might…take a while.”

“I don’t think I can _physically_ go anywhere,” he sighed, “what’s up with the two of us Alex. First you break your leg, now this. How much paperwork will we have to suffer through?”

“At least I’ll have someone to throw paper airplanes at now.” He threw him a smile. “I’ll be back in five…no make that ten. They’ve been dying to see you awake.” John barked a laugh at his words but cringed when it hurt. “I’m sorry - too soon.”

“Nothing I didn’t expect,” he groaned. “Wake me up when you get back. I’m digging the PJs by the way.”

“Well it’s your fault him here, you could at least appreciate them. But, of course. Catch some rest before some nurse comes and prod and poke at you. She’ll _literally_ be out for your blood.” He threw John a smile when his eyes closed and started making his way downstairs, to their friends, co-workers. If he got some funny looks from the people at the door, he ignored them. They weren’t worth it, not tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr](http://mriareynolds.tumblr.com/post/144086455690/32-lams-please). Come say hi! ^-^ [I'm still doing these! :3 Check out [the list](http://mriareynolds.tumblr.com/post/143628787675/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) and send me a prompt if you'd like.]


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